


That Don't Impress Me Much

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Series: This is the Soundtrack of Our Life [13]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A little bit country, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, Song Fic Challenge, That Damn Radio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is Stiles' warm and fuzzy sounding board...well...Hot and Hunky Brooding Sounding Board. Well...now that you mention it...Hot and hunky brooding silent-sounding board? </p>
<p>Fine.</p>
<p>Derek is the unfortunate witness of Stiles' various high school relationships. </p>
<p>And oblivious Stiles is oblivious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Don't Impress Me Much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [no+name+please](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=no%2Bname%2Bplease).



> Song: That Don't Impress Me Much  
> Artist: Shania Twain
> 
> This ended up MUCH longer than I expected.

"DUDE! I got a date!"

Derek shuddered. He seriously hated it when Stiles called him dude. There were so many OTHER things he could be called, but that was the one that seemed to top the hyperactive human's vocabulary.

"That's...great?"

Judging by the way Stiles was vibrating when he came into the loft, he assumed that was the right response. Rolling his eyes as Stiles flopped into the overstuffed arm chair Lydia had insisted on adding to the living space, he sighed.

"With who?"

"Danny."

"The lacrosse guy?"

"Dude...he's so much more than that. He's hot upon hot, and smart. Like...gives me a run for my money smart. We're going to grab dinner, maybe stop by The Jungle for some clubbing. Who knows where else it may end up."

A dopey smile crossed Stiles' face.

"Don't worry though. I'll still stop by next weekend and help you with your taxes if you're still willing to proof my paper on anthropomorphic tribes of South America. I'm not gonna forget my dark and brooding friend just because I'm getting my mack on."

Derek's full and impressive eyebrows made a twitch as he mouthed, "Get my mack on..."

A little louder, he asks, "Who even says that anymore?"

"Shhh. I'm swooning. Consider this some swoon."

Derek merely rolled his eyes and went back to his brooding while Stiles babbled on about how Danny asked him out. Flicking the radio on, he cringed as a country song came pouring out.

_I've known a few guys who thought they were pretty smart_   
_But you've got being right down to an art_   
_You think you're a genius-you drive me up the wall_   
_You're a regular original, a know-it-all_   
_Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special_   
_Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else_

Flicking the radio back off, he got to his feet. 

"I'm going for a run. You can let yourself out."

Heading to the door to the loft, he wasn't at all surprised when Stiles didn't make a move.

***

The week came, the week went, and the weekend finally came. Stiles came thunking in with a rain cloud over his head, and a look that would make even the most psychotic Alpha think twice before messing with him.

Derek had his taxes laid out on the table, and his laptop up and running with Stiles' emailed paper in the word processor. Two jack and cokes were poured, and a plate of breadsticks was sitting at the table.

"You heard." Stiles all but snarled his somewhat rhetorical question.

"News travels fast."

"Seriously. A percent and a half and he thinks he's SOO much better than me. And those hands, Ugh! You'd think someone whose been out more than me and longer than me would at least have an idea of what to do. For someone so smart he's SO fucking stupid. Book smart? Yes. People smart. Oh fuck no. That for me?"

Downing his Jack and coke as he pulled his jacket off, he smiled a smile of relief as Derek poured a refill.

"Thanks Dude. Turn on the radio, lets get to this."

_Okay, so you're a rocket scientist_   
_That don't impress me much_   
_So you got the brain but have you got the touch_   
_Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright_   
_But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night_   
_That don't impress me much_

Derek flipped it off the country station, knowing he'd never live it down if anyone figured out that he actually liked it. Something about cute guys in cowboy hats and the promise of spurs that gave him a happy.

Some hours of soft rock later, Derek unhunched himself from the laptop as Stiles handed him the completed tax forms. Reading through them, he looked at the paper, then at Stiles.

"You saved me from having to pay $4000 and managed to get me a return. That's definitely a first."

"Yeah well you really saved my ass on the paper. You don't even understand. That's worth about 40% of my final for social studies."

Each of them draining their Jack and cokes, the breadsticks long since finished.

"Pizza?" Stiles asked through a burp.

"It's on me."

***

Two months passed, nice and quiet, aside from the occasional monster of the week, Lydia threatening to kill Jackson when he arrived back in Beacon Hills, and a new combination Pizza Parlour/Paintball Field opening...and closing the same day.

"DUDE! I. Have. A. Date."

"Don't call me Dude."

"D-Bag. I have a date."

"Stick with Dude. You'll live longer. Whose this one with. Don't tell me you took back Danny."

"No. He's still pissed that paper you proofed for me edged him out of the top spot in the school."

Derek allowed himself a private smile at that news.

"No. It's with Ethan."

"Ethan as in Alpha Ethan?"

"The one and the same. I tried brains last time. This time, maybe brains and some looks. I mean. Have you seen him? That chest. Those cheek bones. Dat ass."

Derek growled under his breath but it was dutifully ignored.

"Just be careful. At least Danny was human."

"I'll be fine Derek. He's promised to keep his claws to himself. I gotta say. Since coming out, my choices have been FINE."

Derek even had to grudgingly admit that Stiles was landing himself some A-Listers...as far as BHHS was concerned at least. Listening to the music for a second, he gave himself a small smile as Shania crooned.

_I never knew a guy who carried a mirror in his pocket_   
_And a comb up his sleeve-just in case_   
_And all that extra hold gel in your hair oughtta lock it_   
_'Cause Heaven forbid it should fall outta place_   
_Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special_   
_Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else_

The music wasn't coming from his loft, it was being blasted across the street. Stiles couldn't hear it, but he could. He liked the little chuckle the universe gave him from time to time.

"You better get going. I assume the date's tonight?"

"Yup. Better get showered. Dressed. Something easily removable?"

"Just go Stiles. And be careful."

"That's twice now. Say it again and I might actually think you give a shit."

With that Stiles bounded out of the loft. Seriously. When did Derek become Stiles' go to for this sort of thing? Isn't that what Scott was for?

***

Another week later. Another bottle of Jack, and a bottle of coke and a much much larger plate of breadsticks. This time the pizza was already ordered as well.

As if on cue, Derek opened the door so Stiles didn't have to knock. He handed the glass over to Stiles who drained it in one gulp.

"Am I not pretty enough for a werewolf?"

As casual as he was trying to sound, his voice was tight. He was upset. He was hurt. He was insulted. And something in Derek made him want to go and toss around the one who hurt Stiles. Even as annoying at the human was, he was still in his Pack, and no-one hurt his friends.

"You're plenty attractive Stiles."

"Then why didn't he want..."

Stiles' face all but crumbled as he sat on the couch. Yeah. Ethan was going to be a bit less pretty when Derek was done with him. Sitting beside him, he awkwardly put a hand on Stiles' shoulder. The human leaned into him, seeking the reassuring warmth and touch, but not pushing for anything other than what Derek was offering. Feeling a blush creep up his neck, he was glad to see that Stiles' eyes were closed, framed with long delicate eyelashes on milky white skin that seemed all the more ethereal for the small flaws and imperfections that looked all too kiss...

"Where did that thought come from?"

"Hmm?"

"Nothing just...imagining playing with viscera."

"Dude...you're a bit bent."

"Slightly curved."

"What was that? Missed it."

"Nothing. Just. Relax. I'll bring the food to the coffee table."

Listening as the radio filtered downstairs.

_Okay, so you're Brad Pitt_   
_That don't impress me much_   
_So you got the looks but have you got the touch_   
_Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright_   
_But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night_   
_That don't impress me much_

This was turning into Stiles theme song. A sinking feeling in his gut appeared, thinking about the next verse.

***

Summer came. Summer went. Stiles and Scott turned 18 and were seniors in high school.

Coming up to the loft, Stiles' latest growth spurt being more in the line of muscle than height, he smiled at Derek.

"Guess whose joined the all boys team?"

"Stiles. I know you're gay, despite the serious lack of sex you keep lamenting whenever we're together."

"Not me dumb ass. Jackson. I think he's all boy. He may be a switch hitter. Or something. Both sides of the fence. Anyway. I've got a date on Saturday!"

Trying to muster a smiles, Derek nodded.

"Awesome! I'm happy for you."

The tone also implied he was looking forward to an enema performed with bullet ants in lieu of water.

Stiles didn't catch it.

_You're one of those guys who likes to shine his machine_   
_You make me take off my shoes before you let me get in_   
_I can't believe you kiss your car good night_   
_C'mon baby tell me-you must be jokin', right!_   
_Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special_   
_Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else_

"Dude. That song is like, ALWAYS on when I come over. Weird right? You gotta have it on CD on repeat. Anyway. I'll catch you on Sunday. Who knows. Maybe I'll finally get my V-Card punched."

Derek grimaced that they were that familiar with each other. After Stiles left, he picked up his phone.

"Yeah. I need to make an order for Saturday night? Triple breadsticks. Two pepperoni pizzas. Maybe those pull apart cinnamon things? Yeah. Yup. Okay. No problem. See you then. Oh. yeah. Two bottles of coke. The liquor store next door open yet? Thanks. Yeah. No. I'll see you then."

***

Throwing the door open as Stiles approached, the look of resignation clear on the human's face, Derek was walking out and locking it behind him. Sliding an arm around Stiles' waist, he lead the way to the door to head outside. Stiles didn't even notice how Derek was leading him.

"I ordered food, but my car's not working so we need to take the Jeep."

Stiles groaned under his breath, but at least this meant food. And probably copious amounts of liquor when they got back to the Loft.

"He didn't stop talking about his cars."

"Cars?"

"Multiple. I had to wear those booties they make you wear at a crime scene before I could get in, and he made me change because my pants were darker than the seat covers and he, 'Didn't want to risk staining.' I mean...what the fuck man. It's a car!"

_Okay, so you've got a car_   
_That don't impress me much_   
_So you got the moves but have you got the touch_   
_Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright_   
_But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night_

Derek nodded his head in agreement. As much as he was fond of the camaro, and the truck, he'd had all manners of blood and gore in them. That's why leather was a good thing.

"Stiles. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Why not. Not like today can get any worse."

The guys got into the Jeep and buckled up. After a few attempts, the engine turned over and they were on their way.

"Why did you say yes to Danny?"

"Because he's smart."

"Like you?"

"I guess."

"And Ethan?"

"He's hot...was hot...I've heard his nose is almost regrown, but his jaw is taking some time. The wolfsbane that was stuffed into his marrow REALLY did a number on his regeneration."

"But he was hot like you."

"Dude. You don't have to be nice. You're the hot one here."

"I wasn't asking that part as a question."

"Oh. Okay."

"And Jackson...I mean fuck. It's Jackson."

"I know I know. Okay. It was a little because of the flashy car and the status that goes with dating the guy driving them. I have this Jeep. This Jeep I love, but it's a piece."

"But it's useful. It's hauled my dying ass back and forth more than a few times. And the backseat is plenty spacious for getting between your legs and making you weep with pleasure."

"Yeah I guess you're right."

Derek stared rather intently at Stiles, eyes glowing just slightly. 

"Thanks Derek. Somehow you seem to know what to wait what's that about my back seat and my legs?"

Derek bared his fangs just slightly, breathing through his mouth. Confusion was not what Stiles was scenting the Jeep with right now. Not even close. The radio came to life as the short in the back tripped it on after Stiles almost hit the curb.

_That don't impress me much_   
_You think you're cool but have you got the touch_   
_Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright_   
_But that won't keep me warm on the long, cold, lonely night_   
_That don't impress me much_

"You mean to say?"

"Stiles. You're smart. You're hot. You're mobile. You're over dressed, and if you don't pull over now I'm going to commit a dozen or so traffic violations on you that I don't think you want your Dad to know about."

_Okay, so what do you think you're Elvis or something..._   
_Oo-Oh-Oh_   
_That don't impress me much!_

_Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh-No_   
_Alright! Alright!_

Coming to a complete stop, Stiles just looked at Derek and held up his hand.

"But you didn't say anything. You let me date the losers when you felt like..."

"Because I thought you didn't like me like that. I suffered and listened because why not at least make sure you were happy."

_You're Tarzan!_   
_Captain Kirk maybe._   
_John Wayne._

"FUCK. Derek. I was looking for a substitute for YOU! I thought you were straight?!?"

_Whatever!_

Growling, Derek reached across, snapped the seat belt and pulled Stiles onto his lap.

"I told you. Slightly curved, and in a direction you're going to love if you sit on my like this more often."

_That don't impress me much!_


End file.
